


Perfect, Twisted, Bloody Family

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blood and Gore, Bottom Sam, Bounty Hunter Ketch, Butcher Dean, Coming Untouched, Corpse Desecration, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, M/M, Multi, Murder, Murder Family, Oral Sex, Police Officer Sam, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Serial Killers, Sibling Incest, Switch Dean, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Ketch, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean has a great life. He’s got amazing boyfriend and a successful business, lots of friends, and a smart detective for a brother. They have awesome dinners at each other’s houses, poker nights, and a relationship most siblings would envy. Dean also has a deep, secret lust he’s been harboring for said little brother. That, and the occasional murder of a pimp or drug dealer, just to keep things interesting. C’est la vie.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Male, late twenties, sandy hair, around six foot, athletic. _

Sam Winchester stared at the file: the latest in a string of disturbing killings throughout Lawrence. The problem – at least for the detectives and officers in Sam’s unit – was that none of the witness descriptions lined up. Some witnesses saw the man with this description, others saw a man they described as muscular with black hair and a cross tattoo, also about six foot. Never two men, always one at the same crime scene, but both were described. 

“I gotta go, Bobby,” Sam said suddenly, rising from his desk and snapping his laptop shut.

“Go? Winchester, we’ve got about a million crime scene photos to go through still.”

“There’s seventy and I have them. I promised my brother dinner – I’ve been ditching him all month because this psycho.”

Bobby nodded. “I understand. Give Dean my best.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, tugging on his coat. He snagged the thick file folder and rushed out. 

Speed limits were a pain in the ass. A few times, Sam had considered turning on his lights to get across town to the apartment shared by his brother and brother’s boyfriend.

“Dean! It’s me,” Sam called through the door, flipping through the photos of the victim. Or what was left of the victim. The man was identified as a local politician. Sam and his team had been investigating the man for months due to suspicions of ties with a few drug dealers working their way up the ranks.

The killer had done a number to the body – almost surgical cuts – limbs severed completely and throat slit to the spinal column. Along with the body parts, the victim had a note attached, basic printer paper and ink, listing his ‘crimes’.

“Sam! Dean’s taking the food from the oven right now.”

Sam looked up, startled when Dean’s boyfriend, Ketch opened the door. His eyes flitted to the delicate black cross on the man’s hand before stepping into the apartment. He slapped the folder against Ketch’s chest. “You’re getting sloppy,” He hissed.

“Nice to see you too,” Ketch muttered, taking the folder and shutting the door, but Sam was already heading into the kitchen.

Dean grinned up at his brother. “Hey, Sammy. I’m glad you could make it tonight, almost missed dinner.”

“Yeah, because of you two,” Sam snapped.

“Us?” Dean set the casserole dish on the counter.

“It appears that witnesses are confused, my dear boy,” Ketch said as he sauntered into the kitchen, flipping through the photos in the folder.

“They saw your tattoo, Ketch. Look, I know you’re helping people but I can’t keep running interference when you two  _ idiots _ get lazy. No witnesses.”

“Hey, cool down, Sam. The guy was surrounded twenty-four seven by guards and  _ you _ don’t want innocent casualties. We did our best.” Dean went to chest to chest with Sam as he spoke.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat, his gaze drawn to Dean’s shining green eyes. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Okay, Winchesters. Why don’t we just take a breath,” Ketch suggested, stepping up and placing a palm on each brother’s chest. He pushed them apart. “Perhaps have a drink.”

Dean relaxed a bit, reaching up and squeezing Ketch’s hand briefly. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam said. “I’m just—If you two get caught—“

“Yeah, I know, I know. You go to jail too. The only way we know about these guys is through your hints.”

“No. I don’t care about myself, Dean. They will put both of you on death row. You’re the only family, I have.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not it, Sammy.”

“What do you mean?”

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind Sam’s ear. “We all know, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. Before he could speak, Ketch pushed a glass of scotch against each of their chests. 

“Have a drink, boys. Then we’ll have dinner. And  _ then _ we can talk business. You two might be crude bastards but I prefer a modicum of decency in my home.”

Sam rolled his eyes, unable to help smiling. “You’re the one that fell for a brute.”

“Hey now,” Dean argued, taking a drink of the scotch.

“You can be a bit abrasive, Dean. He isn’t wrong,” Ketch agreed.

“Really? Both of you? See if you get into my pants tonight.”

“You can’t resist my charm, Mr. Winchester,” Ketch smirked.

“Wanna bet?”

Sam raised his hands. “God, please, enough. For priding yourselves on being tough guys the flirting is giving me cavities.”

When Sam heard his brother’s new lover was a bounty hunter he laughed hard enough to pull a muscle. He’d thought it was a joke. But the first time Sam saw Arthur Ketch, he knew Dean was head over heels. Ketch was everything Sam could never be for Dean. He was suave and handsome, a mix of attitude and humor that complimented Dean perfectly. 

The two were quiet about how they met at first – a secret for some reason, though it drove Sam insane. He and his brother shared everything – Dean had raised Sam, for the most part – so to hide something, it made Sam suspicious. And then the first murder file landed on his desk. Cross tattoo. Dark hair. Well dressed. Sam knew immediately who it was, but despite his better judgement, he gave Ketch a chance to explain.

Overseas, Ketch had worked as a probate researcher. He’d followed a lead to the United States, directly into Kansas. While there, his darker side reared its head. Ketch had found Dean alone one evening, drinking in one of the bars. He’d gotten him outside and into an alley with every intention of killing him in cold blood. But when the knife was pressed to Dean’s throat, Ketch observed an interesting reaction: Dean got turned on. So turned on in fact, that he pushed the knife away and kissed the man trying to kill him. 

They’d worked together since then – both hiding dark secrets from everyone around them. To the community, Dean Winchester and Arthur Ketch were upstanding citizens. Dean owned a local butcher shop that served up the finest cuts of meat one could find in a hundred mile radius. Ketch had made a name for himself as a prolific bounty hunter, boasting a nearly perfect capture rate. And what was more, almost every fugitive he hunted down was returned to the jail not only in perfect condition, but also amazingly cooperative. 

Sam knew it was only a matter of time before the other officers caught on. He knew he should have turned Ketch over immediately – save his brother from being a victim, or accomplice. But his affection for Dean won out. Instead, he began to run regular interference. Little things of course, nothing that could tie back to him. And he began supplying his brother with possible victims. People that really deserved it. He had his own crack vigilante team and, despite the mysterious serial killer the city now had, the crime rate in other areas was slowly decreasing. The system  _ worked _ . It had worked for nearly a year now, and provided the men continued to be careful, Sam didn’t really see an end in sight. 

Despite everything, murdering, breaking laws, and Sam’s deep secret of his own, their lives were good. Dinners like this, the three of them gathered around the table in Ketch and Dean’s apartment, laughing and sharing stories and jokes – Sam lived for these nights.

Dean was leaned over Ketch’s shoulder, trying to ignore his boyfriend’s teasing as he prepared his plate. He passed Sam’s over and sat down, punching Ketch in the upper arm. 

Sam speared off a bit of the casserole on his plate and eyed it. “This  _ is _ beef, right?” He asked, half joking.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a butcher, Sam. Not Hannibal Lecter,” He muttered, poking at Sam with his fork.

Ketch roared with laughter, surprising Sam. In the year they’d known each other, it was rare to get more than a chuckle out of the normally stoic man. 

“Just shut up and eat before I force feed you assholes,” Dean said, shoving a forkful of the food into his mouth. Sam smiled adoringly over at his brother, shaking his head. 

“So how’s business at the shop?”

“Pretty good. Summertime, of course, so we’re mostly selling burger meat and steaks, but it’s still a steady income.”

Sam nodded. “That’s great. You know I didn’t believe you when you said you wanted to be a  _ butcher _ . I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Dean shrugged, swallowing before speaking. “Well not all of us can be geniuses, now can we, Sammy?”

“Hey – you know you’re smart, Dean. Just ‘cause you don’t like school doesn’t mean you don’t have brains. I just always expected you to become a mechanic like dad was before he died or… I don’t know. A psychologist or something.”

“Why a psychologist?” Ketch asked. 

“Dean’s smart, he knows how to read people. He’s pulled me back from some tough shit more than once – he’d make a good counselor.”

Dean snorted, “Quit it, Sam. It’s too much school. Plus, you know I hate dealing with people.”

“You deal with people every day at the butcher shop,” Sam argued.

“Yeah, but for about ten minutes, max. They don’t tell me their sob story. I couldn’t handle that crap. You’re different. You’re family.”

“I guess, I was just saying. But either way, you’re doing good at the shop, and I’m glad.”

“Plus it gives us an excellent place to perform our duties,” Ketch commented. 

The smile that always seemed to grace his face when he was discussing murder sent shivers down Sam’s spine. Ketch wasn’t a bad man. But he was  _ dangerous _ . Sam knew enough about Ketch to know that he may love Dean, he may even have a close connection to Sam, but he was a killer at the core. There was a darkness inside him that was a mix of terrifying and arousing. 

Sam wondered more than once if someday he’d have to hunt down Ketch for Dean’s murder – look into the eyes of his brother’s lover and shove him into a jail cell that would never hold him. But it was different with Dean. There was a softness to Ketch that he rarely showed, but it always came out when the eldest Winchester was around. A gentle smile, a delicate touch – for a person as cruel as Ketch seemed to be, there was a side as equally caring, even if only for one man.

Sam cleared his throat. “You clean right?  _ Really  _ well? I don’t want any slip ups.”

“Of course we do, Sam. You know me,” Dean said. “What happened to not talking business at the dinner table?”

Sam smiled weakly, meeting Dean’s gaze for a moment. “Sorry – you know I worry. So, Ketch – anything new on your side of the law?”

“Picked up a runner just across the border in Nebraska. Not even that big of a charge – if he hadn’t run he would’ve probably made it out in a few years, now he’s got ten years for evasion and assaulting a police officer.”

“Oh, that’s uh, Marcos, right? One of the rookies arrested him.” Ketch nodded.

“That’s the one. Scared child too – barely nineteen. Ruined up his life.”

“Some people just end up down that road,” Dean muttered, pushing his food around with his fork. “Hell, we almost did.”

“But we didn’t, Dean. You kept us from that.”

“Barely, Sammy.” 

“I think you did more than you realize, Dean. If it wasn’t for your support, I very much doubt Sam would be one of the star detectives on the force at this point,” Ketch assured him, reaching over and squeezing his wrist. 

“Sam got there all on his own and we all know it. Brother’s a genius.”

“Brother needed your support. You know how many times I almost quit and  _ you _ kept me going, Dean.”

Dean shrugged, finishing off his drink and rising from the table. “What family’s for. Refills, anyone?”

Ketch passed his glass to Dean, watching him walk back into the pantry to grab the bottle. He turned to Sam then. “I have a question for you, Sam.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think Dean would be open to moving?”

“Moving? Where?”

“Still in the city. But a house. As much as this apartment has friendly memories and neighbors, I rather miss my space. I was looking at a house a bit closer to your apartment complex – much larger and I think, with a bit of clever budgeting, he and I could afford it.”

Sam’s brows shot up, his smile wavering a little. Ketch’s expression immediately darkened. 

“What? Don’t you think he’ll agree?”

“What? No. Ketch – I think it’s an amazing idea. I’m surprised, I—Dean has never kept a guy around for more than a year or so, I just – I guess I’m still kind of in awe about the relationship you two have. I think he’d be ecstatic with that idea.”

Ketch nodded and smiled a little himself. “Sometimes it just takes the right person… But I understand. It must be difficult for you.”

“For me? Why?”

Ketch tilted his head a little. “Well, I mean, because of how you –”

“Drinks,” Dean said, cutting Ketch off without realizing. Sam continued to look at him for a moment after Dean returned to the table, sitting back down. Ketch’s mouth quirked into a half smile before he turned his attention to Dean. 

After dinner, the three sat around the table still, now devoid of any reminders of the nice family meal they’d finished. Instead it was covered from end to end with crime scene photos, mugshots, witness reports, and lists of possible victims. 

Sam picked up another report. “I don’t know how they only see one of you at a time. It’s only a matter of time before my guys figure out it’s both of you. Especially with that cross tattoo of yours.”

“I’ll wear black gloves next time.”

“What about those leather ones you have?” Dean suggested, taking the report from Sam and reading over it.

“That could work, depending on the situation we remove the victim from.” 

“So who do you have for us this week, Sammy?” Dean asked, tossing the report back to the table. 

“I have three possible targets,” Sam said, pushing aside some of the crime scene photos to find his lists. “There’s Mick Davies – he’s an international crime lord. I mean, this guy has so much dirt he could start his own farm and feed the world. Problem is, we can’t get anything to stick to him. He’s leaving in two weeks to head back to the UK.” Sam pushed over his photo and list of suspected crimes. 

“Okay, the others?” Ketch asked after scanning it for a moment.

“The next is Zachariah Novak, he’s a local pimp. Most of his escorts are way underage, but we can’t make any of them point fingers at him, so it’s all circumstantial.” Dean wrinkled his nose when he saw the man’s photo. 

“Looks like a sleazeball.”

“Dude you have no idea. This guy is the worst.”

Ketch read over the list and set it down. “And the final?”

“No other input, Ketch?” Dean teased.

“I like to know my options before coming to a decision.”

Sam chuckled and passed over the final photo and list. “The third is Lilith Richards.”

“A chick, Sam? Come on.”

“No, she’s bad news, Dean. She’s got two kids. And she beats the shit out of them. Problem is, we can’t prove anything. The house is spotless and the kids won’t say shit, she’s got them scared. Plus she’s got an amazing lawyer that keeps getting her off  _ and _ putting the kids back with her. There’s a foster family already set up that the kids enjoy being at, but our hands are tied until she’s out of the picture.”

Ketch took the photo and list, reading over it. Dean shook his head. 

“No. We don’t kill women.”

“Now, Dean, this isn’t a woman. This is a monster. Look at the photos of her sons,” Ketch tried, passing over the case file.

Dean pushed it away. “Deal with that one legally, Sam. I won’t dismember a fucking woman.”

“Dean—”

Dean slapped the table and stood up. “No.” He stormed off to the pantry, probably grabbing another bottle of alcohol.

Ketch sighed. “I am sorry. I’ll try to speak to him about it more after you leave,” He offered. Sam nodded, gathering up the photos and reports from the current open case. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. 

“Here’s the locations that each of these three are all most likely to be at for the next week.”

“The woman drinks at a bar tonight and stays home the rest of the week? Doesn’t she work?”

“No. Unemployed. Inherited a lot of money plus stocks and an estate from her late husband, there’s a financial advisor that makes sure she doesn’t spend it all on booze. The kids will be taken care of no matter what. They’d just be a million times better off without her.”

Ketch’s expression softened. “You speak from experience.” Sam shrugged. 

“It is what it is. Dean, I gotta get back to the station.”

Dean came out of the pantry, his eyes still dark with unspoken anger. “Thanks for coming to dinner, Sam.”

“Be safe you two, okay?”

“Always,” Dean said. Sam smiled weakly and turned, heading out.


	2. Chapter 2

When Sam was gone, Ketch turned to Dean. “The woman is available tonight, Dean. I know you’ve been itching to work out some stress.”

Dean raised his hand to stop Ketch from speaking. “Just don’t.”

“Dean. She is a terrible woman. Did you even  _ look _ at some of the things that she’s done?”

“She’s still a woman. We’re not bastards, Ketch. I’m not going to kill someone that I wouldn’t punch in broad daylight.”

“Well far be it from me to even considering injuring a woman, but this creature deserves to be punched.”

Dean turned to his boyfriend. “No. I don’t wanna hear that shit from you. We’ll go after one of the men.”

“Their crimes are so much less than a woman abusing her children. These are her  _ children _ , Dean. You understand better than anyone.”

“This isn’t about me!” Dean snapped, slamming his fist down on the table. Ketch’s glass slipped from the edge and shattered on the floor. 

Ketch remained still, watching Dean with a blank expression. He wet his lips and slid the paper Sam had left across the table to Dean. “She’s available tonight. I’m going to take her, and I’m going to slit her throat. You can come with me, or you can stay here and sulk. The choice is yours, Dean.” With that he turned away from his boyfriend, walking across the kitchen to grab the broom and clean up the shattered glass. 

Sam scowled when he heard banging on his door at around midnight. No one visited him this late. He snagged his pistol off his dresser and held it down by his thigh as he walked to the front door, peeking out the peephole. 

He ripped open the door when he saw Dean. “What happened?”

Dean looked up, his face red and eyes bloodshot and swollen. “I’m scared, Sammy.”

Sam ushered him inside quickly, shutting and locking the door before guiding him to the couch. “Where’s Ketch? Are you okay?” He asked, immediately checking over Dean’s body for any physical injuries. Dean batted his hands away.

“He went after the woman.”

“Did something go wrong? Did someone see you?” Sam worried. Dean shrugged weakly. He dropped his face into his hands, scrubbing them over his cheeks. 

“He went alone.”

“What? Why?” Dean’s face twisted into an expression Sam never wanted to see again: agony.

“I messed up.”

“Just calm down, Dean – I can’t put together these sentences. Do you want some water?”

“Something a little harder?” Dean asked, meeting Sam’s eyes. He chewed his lip, considering. It was clear Dean had been drinking, but another dose might be the only way Dean would be able to put together what had happened in the few hours they’d been apart.

“Sure. Just stay here,” Sam said before rising and heading into the kitchen. He poured a few fingers of whiskey into a glass and returned to Dean, passing it to him. 

Dean tossed it back, baring his teeth at the burn before passing the glass back to Sam and taking a shaky breath. “We argued. Over whether or not to kill the woman.”

“Okay. And?”

“Ketch wants to kill her. I can’t – You know I can’t hurt a woman, Sammy.”

Sam lowered his gaze. “I knew you might have an issue with it. But – Dean… Don’t you think our lives would have been better if… Mom hadn’t been around?” 

Dean clenched his jaw, the muscle in his cheek twitching with the force of it. “Don’t, Sam.”

“We need to talk about this, Dean. She checked out of rehab, yesterday. You know she’s gonna come back here.”

“And maybe she’s changed.”

Sam tossed his head back, sighing. “She hasn’t changed since Dad died. She’s tried rehab six times. It never works.”

“Doesn’t mean she should be dead!” Dean snapped. Sam reached out, setting his hands on Dean’s shoulders in an attempt to calm him.

“You’re right. I know. We don’t have to talk about Mom. Tell me what else happened.” 

Dean shrugged out of Sam’s touch and poured himself another glass of whiskey before speaking. “He said he was gonna get her whether I joined him or not. I refused and he—He walked out. It was an hour ago. I don’t know where he is, I—He didn’t bring his phone. I’m scared he got caught or worse. I—I can’t lose him.”

“Do you want me to go look for him? Or call the station, see if they brought anyone in?”

“No.” Dean shook his head quickly. “I can’t lose you either, Sam.”

Sam chuckled, taking the glass from Dean’s hand and taking a sip. “You aren’t going to lose me, Dean. I’m right here. I’ve always been here for you.”

Dean lowered his gaze. “What if he leaves me?”

“He won’t. Ketch is a lot of things, but above all else he’s loyal. He wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I really pissed him off tonight, Sam. I let him down.”

“No.” Sam grabbed Dean’s face, forcing their eyes to meet. “You stood your ground for what you believed in, Dean. That’s brave of you, especially knowing the guy you fell for has a different opinion. Ketch adores you, and he’ll respect that, even if he’s angry right now. And he’s good at his job – he’ll be fine.”

Dean stayed silent, his eyes drifting between Sam’s own and down to Sam’s mouth, then back up. Before Sam could even react, Dean leaned forward, pressing their mouths together in a hard kiss.

Sam fell head over heels for his brother back when they were still teenagers. It was hero worship first – Dean raised Sam after their dad was killed when Sam was four and their mom went off the deep end with drinking. It was the Winchester boys against the world most of the time. 

But as Sam got older, his adoration of Dean shifted. No longer was it wholesome idolatry – he didn’t want to be like Dean… He wanted to  _ be Dean’s. _ Sam’s first wet dream involved Dean taking his virginity, whispering what a good little brother he was and how much he cared for him. Sam woke up sick to his stomach. Dean would murder him if he knew. 

So he kept it quiet. Buried it with all the other secrets. Dean didn’t notice, thankfully. And when he finally found Ketch, Sam figured he’d escaped unscathed. He could move on. Dean wasn’t leaving his new partner any time soon, so Sam would just have to get over his sick little crush.

But it didn’t work. Instead Sam found himself wondering what they looked like having sex. If Dean moaned Ketch’s name or just grunted like he did when he was masturbating. He wondered how it would feel to be between the lovers, their mouths covering every inch of his body with kisses and bites. Their hands biting bruises into the most intimate of places. Sam knew he was beyond hope. At least Ketch and Dean didn’t have a clue about his dirty fantasies. At least, that’s what he’d thought up until now.

Dean’s mouth tasted like whiskey and cinnamon. His lips were chapped, five o'clock shadow grazing over Sam’s as he deepened the kiss, bringing his hands to Sam’s cheeks. The reality of what was happening hit Sam then and he jerked back, pressing his hands to Dean’s chest to stop him from advancing again. 

“Dean!”

“What? Come on, Sam… You can’t tell me you don’t want this,” Dean whispered, leaning forward again. Sam backed up despite every fiber of his body telling him to just go with it.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m tipsy.”

“You’re my brother.”

“So?” Dean grabbed Sam’s wrists but didn’t move them from his chest. Instead he just held them, gazing at Sam with that expression that made him ache in all the right places. “Sam. I want this.”

“You’re dating Ketch,” Sam tried weakly.

“Who walked out on me. He knows I want this. He knows you do too.”

“He wouldn’t be okay with this.” Dean hesitated, then shrugged. 

“I’m not okay with him slitting a woman’s throat. Please, Sam. Don’t fight this anymore. I’m tired of it, and I know you are too.”

Dean was right. Sam was tired of fighting these urges. Ignoring the pit in his stomach, he let his hands drop and Dean went forward, catching his mouth again. Sam found himself pinned to the couch, Dean’s hands pulling up his shirt and unbuttoning it as they kissed. 

Sam nipped Dean’s bottom lip, earning a grunt of surprise. 

Dean pulled back and chuckled. “Biter, huh?”

“What? Don’t you like it?” Sam asked, sitting up to shrug off his shirt and pull Dean’s over his head. 

“I love it,” Dean whispered, leaning back in to kiss over Sam’s bared shoulder and up along the curve of his neck. 

Sam nuzzled the back of his ear, teeth grazing Dean’s earlobe before he whispered, “We should go to the bedroom.”

They stumbled to the bedroom, shedding clothes and exchanging kisses along the way. A part of Sam was still screaming, arguing that this was wrong. This was his brother. His brother who was dating someone else. His brother who was dating someone that could kill Sam without a second thought. But it had been weighing on him so long – he couldn’t resist. He didn’t even want to try. Even if Ketch killed him – at least he’d die a happy man. 

They fell into bed nude, a tangle of arms and legs. Sam felt Dean everywhere, teeth biting into his skin, fingers squeezing his hips and thighs. Their cocks bumped together, hard and aching, and they both hissed. 

“Do you have lube?” Dean panted, brushing the tips of his fingers over Sam’s hole. 

“Top drawer of the dresser.” Sam’s voice came out in a rush, his eyes screwed shut. This was really going to happen. He felt Dean’s bodyweight leave him and opened his eyes, watching his brother dig in the drawer. Dean was a damn god. Even in the moonlight, Sam could see the splash of freckles over his shoulders and back, the dip and swell of his ass, the curve of his bowed legs. 

Dean turned back, his cheeks pinking up when he noticed Sam staring at him. “What?”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. Just… Waiting to wake up, I guess.”

“It’s not a dream, Sammy,” Dean said, crawling back onto the bed and catching Sam’s mouth again. The click of the lube bottle made Sam pull back, splaying his palms on Dean’s chest.

“Are you sure? Once we do this – things will be different.”

“I’ve been wanting to do this for years, Sam. I just – didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

“Since I was a kid,” Sam admitted. Dean chuckled, looking down for a moment.

“Then it’s about time.” He knocked Sam’s hands out of the way, kissing him once again as he poured the lube on his fingers and rubbed two gently against Sam’s hole. Sam gasped into his mouth, spreading his legs a little farther.

Dean pushed the first in, earning a soft whimper from Sam. He pulled back. “You good?” Sam nodded, swallowing hard. 

“I’m great. Just been a while.”

“I’ll make it feel good.”

Sam felt his cheeks heat up. He took a shaky breath, resting his hands on Dean’s shoulders as he struggled to relax. 

Dean began to move his finger slowly, stretching and massaging Sam's inner muscles until he could slip in the second digit. 

Sam couldn’t quite believe what was happening. His entire body was warm, the sensation of Dean’s fingers and the familiar weight of his body in such a new situation – Sam kept waiting to wake up. But this was no dream. He let his eyes slip shut when Dean pulled his fingers free and lifted himself to his knees. 

“Sam, look at me… Last chance to stop this,” Dean said when Sam met his gaze, the blunt head of his cock bumping against Sam’s hole.

“Do it.”

Dean nodded and began to press in, inch by inch. Sam grimaced, trying to make his body relax. He wrapped his legs around Dean’s hips, helping to guide him in. Above him, Dean was groaning softly, his thigh muscles tense and twitching under Sam’s ass. 

When he was as deep as he could go, Dean collapsed over Sam, kissing his shoulder as he stilled, letting his brother get used to the penetration. 

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean worried, his lips against Sam’s earlobe.

“I’m good. Still can’t believe what’s happening, I— I’ve wanted this so damn long, Dean.”

“I’m here now… I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

Sam nodded, sliding his hands down Dean’s back to rest on his hips. Dean lifted himself up on his palms and pulled out almost all the way before sliding back in, slow and steady. Sam’s back arched, his eyes fluttering shut. The full feeling was overwhelming, pressing everywhere sensitive inside Sam like well-known buttons. They fit together perfect, legs slotted on the bed as Dean picked up a steady pace, his breath hot against Sam’s cheek. 

Sam brushed his hands down, squeezing Dean’s ass before moving up, the delicate hairs tickling his fingertips. 

Dean moaned against his shoulder, mouthing the sweat damp skin before raising to push their mouths together in a desperate kiss. It was clear neither was going to last very long at this rate. It was all too much, too unbelievable. He sped up, his hips jerking every few thrusts, out of sync. Sam slid his hand between their bodies, stroking his cock in time with the thrusts. He forced his eyes to stay open, watching his brother above him.

Dean looked almost meditative, his expression relaxed despite the hitching of his breath, eyes shut.

Sam reached up and brushed his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone, still in awe of what was happening. Dean’s eyes fluttered open and he offered a crooked grin. “You close?” He panted.

Sam nodded, planting his feet to let himself push up against Dean on each inward thrust, identical moans rising from both their chests.  Sam stripped his cock faster, the fingers of his other hand digging into Dean’s ass as he chased his orgasm. He bit his bottom lip, whimpering when Dean hit the perfect angle, pushing him over the edge. 

His body stiffened, hips jerking as he came, hot ropes splashing over his heaving stomach as Dean continued to pump into him, forcing his cock to jump in his hand each time his prostate was hit. 

As Sam came down from his orgasm, his body relaxing into the bed, Dean came, his body spasming as he drove deep enough to make Sam shout. He groaned Sam’s name, burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

The two laid still after their orgasms faded, still connected. Sam finally groaned, pushing weakly on Dean’s shoulder. “Move, I gotta take a piss.”

Dean huffed and rolled off Sam, both of them groaning once more when his softening cock slipped free of Sam’s body. He flopped onto his back, looking down at his sweat and come covered body. 

“Should shower,” He mumbled, slinging an arm over Sam’s chest before Sam could get up.

“I’ll get a washcloth,” Sam suggested, pushing Dean’s arm off him and rising. He grimaced a little, leaning on the nightstand. “I’m gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.”

“Worth it,” Dean mumbled, already sounding half asleep. 

“Says you,” Sam snarked before limping out of the bedroom.

By the time he returned after cleaning his own stomach, Dean was snoring lightly, spread eagle atop the covers. Sam chuckled, watching his brother sleep for a moment. He walked to the bed, cleaning the come from Dean’s stomach carefully before tugging the blanket out from under him. He pushed Dean’s leg and arm out of the way, earning a displeased grunt from his brother. 

Crawling into bed, he threw the covers over them both and curled up against his side, letting much needed sleep overtake him.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Sam was startled awake by a banging on his front door at just past six. Muttering under his breath, he tugged on a pair of sweats and padded out to the living room, yanking open the door without much thought.

Ketch was leaning on the frame, his face flushed. “Is Dean here?”

Sam’s stomach dropped like a stone, nausea overtaking him as the events of last night rushed back to the forefront of his mind. He’d slept with his brother. Who was in a relationship. Fuck.

“D—He’s sleeping,” Sam said softly, trying to keep his face from revealing any guilt.

“He’s safe?” Ketch asked, his stance relaxing a little at Sam’s words.

“Yeah, he’s safe. He was drinking last night, but it wasn’t anything excessive. He was scared that you were gonna leave him. Or get hurt, or… Something.”

Ketch closed his eyes, taking a breath. “May I come in? I really need to speak with him.”

Sam sighed softly. “Yeah… I think he needs to talk to you too.” Sam stepped aside, letting Ketch in. His eyes fell on the empty couch of Sam’s one bedroom apartment.

“Where is he?”

“My room,” Sam said softly, hanging his head as he shut the door behind Ketch. 

He followed Ketch toward the bedroom, each step more difficult than the last, the guilt weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. Ketch pushed open the bedroom door, hesitating in the entrance. Sam could just see over his shoulder to the bed. Dean was still sleeping, one bare leg kicked out from under the covers and shifted over to reveal his nudity. The side Sam had slept on was wrinkled, the blanket tossed back - a clear sign of recent use. 

Sam couldn't meet Ketch's eyes when the man turned to face him. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen."

To Sam's surprise, Ketch chuckled. "I know it's early, but why don't we have a drink and a chat?"

Sam looked up. "I'm not gonna lie, I expected you to punch me in the teeth, not offer a conversation."

"Well, you underestimate my knowledge of the two of you, as usual. Come. We'll let him rest a bit longer." Ketch set his hand on Sam's shoulder and guided him into the kitchen.

Sam grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the top of his fridge and two glasses, sitting across from Ketch at the table as he poured them and passed one over.

“You two slept together, I presume,” Ketch said, not taking his eyes off Sam.

“Yeah. It—Just kinda happened.”

“So you have feelings for him?”

“I always have,” Sam admitted. “I just didn’t know he had them for me too.”

Ketch nodded. “He has. It’s something he and I have talked quite extensively about. You believe I’m angry, don’t you?”

“Aren’t you? I—I made him cheat on you.”

Ketch chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “You did no such thing. Sam, I have always been aware that I don’t have Dean’s entire heart. You have a good portion of it. It was only a matter of time before he succumbed to his urges and propositioned you. We weren’t sure if you felt the same way, so I requested he wait, until we could be sure.”

“You—Wanted him to have sex with me?” Sam scowled, confusion clear on his face.

“I would hope it was more than just sex. But it’s something we discussed, if it were to happen. How we would handle it. I feel like it’s time to share that discussion with you now.”

Sam laughed a little nervously. “Yeah, I’d like to be enlightened, all things considered.”

Ketch took another swallow before speaking, looking down at the glass and spinning it in his hands. “Your brother is crazy about you. Yes, he cares deeply for me as well, but he’s one of those very special men that can share their affection with more than one person. When Dean and I discussed this – his affection for you – I brought up that he was free to date you, if he chose. Of course he didn’t want to leave me at the time, I don’t know if he still feels that way, but we made the decision to speak to you about permitting a bit of… A sharing kind of relationship, if it came to this.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, swallowing the rest of his drink. He pursed his lips, brows furrowed as he thought through Ketch’s words. “A sharing relationship. Like… We both date him?”

“Precisely.”

Sam grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. “And you’d be okay with that?”

“Of course. I suggested it to him, and he quite enjoyed the idea. To be able to have us both without fear of envy or shame. An equal share. The question is… Would  _ you _ be able to share him with me without jealousy?”

“He’s crazy about you, Ketch. I’d never push that aside. You make him happier than I’ve seen him in years.”

“And you could as well, Sam. I’m not asking you to give me a definite answer this moment – of course I’d like to speak with Dean about our disagreement last night, and I’d like the three of us to sit down and make sure this is something all of us would be alright with… But I wanted to tell you about our discussion so that you could consider it. I wouldn’t want to blindside you with it.”

Sam huffed a laugh without humor. “I still feel kinda blindsided. I was expecting a huge fight. Or – You to think we were disgusting… Or you to go after me with that knife of yours.”

Ketch’s small smile disappeared at Sam’s words. He leaned forward, setting his hand on Sam’s wrist and gripping it lightly to make Sam focus fully on him.

“I would  _ never _ injure you, Sam. I may be in a relationship with your brother, but I care deeply for you as well. I know what you two went through growing up, and you are both strong men because of it. I admire what you do – the life you’re able to lead. I won’t take the life of a person that isn’t well deserving of the sting of my blade. And you are not. Regardless of the outcome of this discussion or others… You have my word that you and Dean will  _ always _ be under my protection. And you know I do not give my word lightly.”

Sam felt his heart leap. He’d assumed Ketch liked him, but to hear it put so bluntly – the weight of the promise – it was unbelievable. Aside from Dean, Sam had never really had someone to care for him that way, put his safety and needs so high up. It was overwhelming. Sam felt his eyes welling with tears. He looked away quickly, trying to ground himself.

Ketch released his wrist and rose, circling the table before setting his hands on Sam’s shoulders. He began to squeeze and release, his thumbs moving in small circles on the back of Sam’s neck. “Don’t be ashamed of emotions, Sam. I may have difficulty expressing them, as does Dean… But your emotional openness is a part of what makes you such a good man. A pure soul. I will never lie to you, and I will never hurt you. You are safe as my friend, and I trust that I’m the same with you.”

Sam took a shaky breath, reaching across his body and up to set his hand over Ketch’s. “You are. I’d die to keep you and Dean safe.”

Ketch gave Sam’s shoulders one final squeeze before returning to his seat. “You’ll have a busy day today, I believe. You should begin getting ready for work. Do you mind if I stay and wait for Dean to wake?”

“Of course not. You two are always welcome here. Just lock up when you guys go home, if you do. I guess… If you wanna have that discussion – you’re welcome to stay until I get home too.”

“Thank you.”

Sam nodded, getting up from the table. He could feel his legs shaking a little, Ketch’s words – their entire conversation – still heavy in his mind as he walked to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

As Ketch had implied, Sam was up to his ears with the new victim of the mysterious serial killer. The office was getting scared – it was clear it was the same killer, but he’d changed his M.O. – instead of a slit throat and dismemberment, this time the throat was slit, the arms and legs still attached. The list of ‘crimes’ was the same, as was the similar fashion they found the body in. But a serial killer changing their technique after so long was rare, and usually a sign that things were about to blow up. Or they were going to get sloppy. Everyone was hoping for sloppy, scouring the scene twice as hard for evidence.

Sam had to hide his smile a few times when the techs continued to come up empty handed. Ketch was a lot of things, but uncalculated and truly sloppy – never. Maybe this was just what they needed to get the law off their tails. A change in technique, a way to make the cops think something was changing for the killer – perfect cover.

Despite everything going on with the murder of the child abuser, Sam still couldn’t get the conversation he’d had with Ketch that morning out of his mind. Or the things he’d done with Dean last night. Could things really work if the three of them entered this type of relationship? What if someone found out? Though, they were two serial killers and a detective, the public finding out about an incestuous relationship was the least of their secrets.

But would  _ Dean _ be okay with all of it? Could Sam willingly share his brother? He thought he could – he’d been sharing Dean with Ketch for a year now and this – a real relationship with Dean – was more than he’d had that entire time. Plus they were always there for each other, Ketch included.

Sam left work that evening much later than he wanted to, but confident in the answer he’d give if the question was still on the table.


	4. Chapter 4

His apartment was silent and dark when Sam entered. He shrugged off his coat, assuming Dean and Ketch had gone home to make up. The nagging worry that the offer Ketch had made that morning had been retracted wouldn’t leave him. The more he considered it, the more he  _ wanted _ it. The thought of having it dangled in front of him and then ripped away – that would be more than disappointing.

Sam walked into his bedroom, scowling at the bed. Ketch and Dean were under the covers, their mouths pressed together in a passionate kiss. Sam’s body reacted, his cock thickening in his pants as he watched the two. It didn’t feel invasive like he’d worried it would. Rather, it was arousing. He wanted nothing more than to slide into the bed behind Dean, reach across their bodies and fist Ketch’s always groomed hair, taste his skin and sweat and make them both scream for him.

Dean broke the kiss and looked toward the door, smiling sheepishly when he saw Sam. “Hey Sammy. Hope you don’t mind.”

“N—No… Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Sam said, his cheeks burning when he realized he’d been caught spying on them like a peeping tom.

“No need to apologize, Sam. We are in your bed after all,” Ketch said. He flipped the cover back and rose.

Sam’s eyes bulged and he looked down; Ketch was completely nude. Though he’d assumed Ketch was well endowed, he’d never seen the man in less than at least a t-shirt and jeans, and even that was rare.

Ketch pulled on boxers quickly, seeming to sense Sam’s surprise. “Apologies, again.”

“It’s fine. Um, I’ll go wait in the living room for you guys to get done,” Sam stuttered, stumbling backwards a little before turning and hurrying to the living room.

 

It was only a few minutes before Dean and Ketch emerged, fully dressed this time. Sam was sitting on the couch, flipping through one of the case files he’d brought home with him. He glanced up, his cheeks burning still. “So…”

“I’m going to get us dinner. How does Chinese sound to you two?” Ketch suggested.

“Uh… Sure,” Sam nodded.

“Sounds good,” Dean said. He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Ketch’s cheek before walking into the kitchen. Ketch turned and walked out, leaving Sam alone in the living room once more.

Dean returned quickly though, holding two beers. He placed one in front of Sam and sat next to him on the couch. Sam had never noticed how close they sat before, but now the heat from Dean’s body was scorching, bringing back the events of last night full force. The sticky slap of their skin, the wet, warm heat of Dean’s mouth against his own. The weight of Dean’s body on his chest.

“Dean… We gotta talk.”

“You’re telling me. I’m sorry, Sammy.”

“For what? Dean, I could have told you no. I wanted it just as much. I have for years.”

Dean looked down at his lap, thumbing over the can tab. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He finally asked.

“You’re my brother. Plus, you have Ketch, I—I didn’t wanna come between that.”

“Ketch told me he talked to you this morning… About the three of us.”

Sam nodded. He chewed his lip, nerves coming back full force. He’d been so confident about the answer he’d give when he came home but now – with Dean sitting right in front of him – the words just wouldn’t come out. When he didn’t answer, Dean spoke again,

“I know it’s strange. I mean, probably the last thing you expected but – I can’t leave Ketch. You know how I feel about him, but I feel the same way about you, Sam. And if you want to – you’ve got our support.”

“I just don’t wanna come between you two.”

“You won’t, Sam. We wouldn’t have come to this option if that was a concern for either of us.”

“I know you feel that way in theory but things are different when the situation is actually happening.”

Dean sighed and rose from the couch, pacing through the living room. He ran his hands over various items of furniture, picking up photos in frames – mostly of himself and Sam at varying ages. “Sam, I don’t want to make you feel on the spot. I just want you to know, I had fun last night. I felt… Like something fell into place that I’ve been missing. So if you want to continue whatever it is we had started, I’m happy to.” Dean set the final picture down and walked back to the couch, sitting back down next to Sam. “We’ll talk more when Ketch gets back, okay?”

Sam nodded, looking anywhere but at his brother’s face.

“So… Did he get her?”

“What?”

“The woman abusing her kids. Did Ketch find her?”

“I think so. I mean, she was found this morning. The office is freaking out – he didn’t dismember her like you guys normally do, so they’re afraid the serial killer is changing his tactic. Honestly it might be exactly what we needed to get the trail away from you guys.” Sam passed over the folder of crime scene photos and reports.

Dean flipped through it, making small noises as he read through the reports. “And no witnesses.”

“Not one that could remember anything.”

“Maybe he should do this on his own. Seems to be better working solo.”

Sam smiled weakly. “He’s better  _ with _ you, Dean. You both are. And you – I know you need this. There’s something inside you that just – You need to do this to keep yourself sane and I get that.”

“Still—“

“No. Don’t feel guilty for saying no last night. You have your reasons. She’s on the slab, just like I wanted. And now you guys can go back to normal.”

“After what you and I did last night, there won’t be normal ever again.” Sam’s head snapped up.

“Dean, you said you two made up.”

“We did. But it doesn’t change the fact that I went to you for comfort when he and I were fighting. I slept with you.”

Sam closed his eyes, guilt rushing over him at Dean’s words. “I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed you off. It was wrong of me.”

“No. You did what you wanted. And so did I. But it does change things. We all know now that you feel the same way and I—I can’t ignore that, Sam.”

“Maybe this was a bad idea. You guys staying,” Sam muttered, taking the folder back and standing. He paced over to the bookshelf and began straightening it; anything to put distance between himself and Dean.

“Don’t do that,” Dean muttered.

“Do what?”

“Push me out. Not when we just found our way.”

Sam stilled, his hand hovering over the books. “We didn’t find our way, Dean. I made you cheat on your boyfriend.”

“He knew it would happen eventually.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

When Dean didn’t answer, Sam leaned his head on the bookshelf, trying to stay calm. The last thing he wanted to do was start crying or throw a fit over this. He  _ wanted _ Dean – but he wouldn’t let himself come between Dean and Ketch. Not when they had so much going for them.

The brothers didn’t speak again until Ketch returned with their food. Sam was at his desk, writing up various reports on the crime scene while Dean remained on the couch, flipping through an old photo album he’d found.

Ketch looked between the two when he entered. “Don’t everybody greet me at once.”

Sam looked up and tried to smile. He knew it didn’t pass, but hoped it’d be enough to appease Ketch. “Thanks. For getting dinner, I mean.”

“My pleasure. We raided your kitchen earlier, it is only fair I purchase a meal to make up for it. I’ll get it set up in the kitchen.”

“You don’t need to do that, I can.” Sam offered, rising and taking the bags. He rushed into the kitchen before Ketch could protest.

As he was setting up their plates, he heard the two talking in the living room. It was Ketch that spoke first.

“Did you talk to him?”

“I tried… It didn’t go so well.”

“Oh? Does he not want to try this new idea?”

Dean sighed. “I think he does but he’s got it so in his head that he’s going to mess up something between us.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“Well tell my stubborn little brother that,” Dean huffed, and Sam’s stomach knotted. He could picture that frustrated scowl on Dean’s face as if he were standing right in front of him. And he wanted nothing more than to kiss it off his lips.

“We’ll try speaking to him after dinner. The three of us together. You and Sam are so close, it’s hard to step back and see the forest for the trees, sometimes. Perhaps with myself as a third party, we can help him understand it isn’t something that I worry about.”

When the living room went silent, Sam knocked his knuckles on the entryway. “Table’s all set up for us, if you guys wanna,” He said. He couldn’t help but smile a little.

Ketch had his arms wrapped around Dean’s shoulders, Dean’s head tucked under his chin in a subtle display of intimacy that Sam knew Dean had always had a hard time showing. Ketch was the first – only – lover to bring it out in him, and Sam was so thankful for that. Dean felt safe with Ketch – he’d told Sam that one evening. Safer than anyone, aside from Sam, had made him feel before.

Ketch rose, pulling Dean up and pecking him on the mouth before walking into the kitchen. He reached out, letting his palm graze Sam’s stomach. Their eyes met a moment and Ketch’s mouth lifted into a brief smile as he passed.

Dean hesitated in front of Sam. His mouth twitched, opening a fraction as if to speak. Sam set his hand on Dean’s chest. “After dinner,” He whispered.

Dean’s face went stoic once more and he brushed past Sam without a word.

This dinner was nothing like the one Sam had attended with them just the night before. No, this one was tense, with nothing but the clinking of silverware and glasses thumping on the table to break the thick silence.

Sam wanted to say something,  _ anything _ to cut the quiet, but could think of nothing. The only thing on his mind was the conversation he knew they’d be having after dinner, and the potential fallout from it. It was possible that he’d lose his brother tonight, and his best friend in one go. Of course there was the other option, the one where everything worked out, but Sam had learned long ago not to rely on hopes and dreams. The reality was that things didn’t work out very often for the Winchesters, and he had no reason to believe this would be any different.

In addition to suffocating tension, the dinner  _ dragged _ . Normally Sam found himself wishing their dinners could be longer, allow him to spend more time with Ketch and Dean, sharing stories and laughter. But this was torture in its worst form.

When it finally ended, Sam leapt from the table to gather the used dishes like he was escaping a fire. He stood at the sink, scrubbing the plates with more aggression than needed. He could feel both men staring at him from the table, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around and face them. Not now. Not when the moment he did he was sure they’d walk out of his life forever. All because he wasn’t strong enough to say no.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat when he felt hands on his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing gently. It took him a moment to realize it was Ketch, rubbing the knots from his muscles the same way he had that morning.

“We’ll wait for you in the living room, Sam. Come when you feel ready, alright?” Ketch’s mouth was almost against his ear, hot breath pulling goosebumps to the surface of Sam’s arms.

“Okay,” He whispered, resisting the urge to lean against the comforting presence behind him. He could have sworn he felt Ketch’s lips brush the back of his neck before stepping away, but brushed it off as wishful thinking.

As promised, Ketch and Dean were in the living room when Sam could no longer think of reasons not to go in there. Dean was on the couch and Ketch was in the nearby recliner. They leaned toward each other as they spoke softly. Ketch was smiling and Sam could make out a curve of laughter on Dean’s face.

He took a seat next to Dean on the couch, a safe distance away. They both turned their attention to him, the room falling into that silence once more.

Ketch cleared his throat and rose, pushing the wood coffee table back a bit before sitting on it so he could face both Winchesters at the same time.

“Sam, I assume you thought today about my proposal.”

“Yeah,” Sam whispered, staring at his hands on his lap.

“And did you come to a decision?”

“I—I don’t know. I thought I had, but… I’m so confused now, I—“

“What are you confused about, Sammy?” Dean asked softly.

“Everything. What this is… How it’ll work. I don’t wanna make anyone jealous, but I don’t wanna lose you two either.”

“Then we’ll discuss it. You’re a rational man if I’ve ever seen one, Sam Winchester. Perhaps if we talk through your confusion, you’ll be able to approach it without emotional fears?” Ketch suggested.

Sam met his eyes and nodded before looking down. “The biggest thing is jealousy. I know you two are attached at the hip and I don’t want to take away from that.”

“And that is a valid concern,” Ketch said before Dean could protest. “I am a possessive man, and I know what I want. I know what I enjoy. And what’s mine is mine. But you seem to forget that I am also understanding. I can still have what’s mine – in this case, Dean – without cutting you out. We would have an equal share of this relationship, and if we – either of us – ever felt like we weren’t getting enough, there would need to be an open line of communication, at all times. Communication really is the key here. It’s important in all relationships, but  _ especially _ in ones of the unique composition we’re offering.”

“Yeah, Sam – we don’t want you to jump into this blind. We want to make sure you’re comfortable, and Ketch, and me – as long as we talk through it all, we’ll be okay,” Dean added.

“But how? I mean, do we share him? Like parents with split custody? That doesn’t seem fair to Dean,” Sam argued.

Ketch chuckled a little at Sam’s analogy. “We would share him in a way, yes, but the majority of the relationship would be the three of us together. Dinners, like we already have, evenings out between all of us. Don’t think of it as a custody arrangement, more a way to provide Dean with as much affection as he deserves. More affection than one man can give him.”

“So… Would I be dating  _ you _ ?” Sam asked, and Dean snorted.

“Only if that’s how you want it,” Ketch said, ignoring Dean for the moment. “I haven’t seen you express romantic interest in me personally, and I wouldn’t force you to begin now. We would have times that we were all in intimate situations, I’m sure, if you were comfortable with that, but you needn’t feel required to be intimate with me directly.”

“In short, Sam – what he’s saying is you date me, and so does he. We all work together to make a family. It’s not a nuclear family… But you’re talking to two serial killers, Sam. We never were normal.”

Sam looked up, finally meeting Dean’s gentle gaze. “I want this, Dean. I have for a long time, and when Ketch suggested the three of us this morning, I—I couldn’t get it out of my head. It sounds amazing, but… Too good to be true, you know?”

“I get that feeling, Sam but trust us. Trust  _ me _ . You deserve a little good in your life, don’t you?”

“I just don’t want it to blow up in our faces.”

Ketch reached out, grabbing Sam’s wrist lightly. When Sam turned to him, he offered a small smile. “We won’t let it. We’ll keep an open line of communication, and make sure everyone is happy with this set up. And if something needs to change, then so be it, we’ll discuss it and change our actions accordingly.”

Sam bit his lip, looking between the two. “Okay. Okay. I—I wanna try it.”

Dean’s face broke into a wide grin. He closed the gap between himself and Sam quickly and grabbed his face, pulling him into a rough kiss.

Sam gasped a little, his hands flying up at first to push Dean away, but Dean grabbed his wrists, bringing them to his sides as he deepened the kiss, bringing his hand up to fist lightly in Sam’s hair. Sam looked out of the corner of his eye at Ketch, worried about what he’d see. Instead of anger or jealousy, Ketch was smirking, his eyes roaming over the scene in front of him. He met Sam’s gaze and gave a small nod of approval.

Sam relaxed immediately, letting his eyes slip shut. He opened his mouth, letting Dean in, and laid back on the couch. Dean settled over him, sliding his hands down Sam’s sides slowly. He tugged up his shirt to touch bare skin, goosebumps following in the wake of his fingers.

Sam broke the kiss, his cheeks reddening. “So, about that discussion?”

“This is fine, Sam. I rather enjoy watching,” Ketch admitted.

“Are  _ you _ okay with it?” Dean asked, searching Sam’s face. Sam smiled and nodded.

“It’s… Different. I’ve never had an audience.” He looked over at Ketch.

“I could go to a different room if you prefer.”

“No. If we’re all in this together then you have a right to stay. If you don’t mind, then neither do I.”

Ketch nodded. “Well I certainly don’t mind this view. I would suggest we move it to the bedroom, however – if you two intend to go further. For everyone’s comfort.”

Dean smirked a little but Sam shook his head. “No, I can’t – I have to get these reports for the child abuser’s murder written up right now – I can’t be late on those.”

“No fun,” Dean teased, but crawled off Sam and let him right his clothing.

“Did they list it under the mysterious serial killer?” Ketch asked as Dean wandered into the kitchen to get them drinks.

“Yeah. They’re losing their shit – thinking he’s becoming unstable, changing his pattern. They think he’ll slip up soon.”

Ketch smirked a little, shifting over to take a seat next to Sam as Sam pulled out the folder again.

“Little do they know.”

“Honestly, even though the circumstances surrounding the situation weren’t so good – this might be a good thing for you guys. When you go back to your normal technique it’ll throw everyone for a loop.”

“The circumstances weren’t all bad, you know.”

Sam looked over, his brows knitting together in a scowl. “You two had a huge fight.”

“And, had we not, you wouldn’t have come into our lives in the way you have now.”

Sam’s cheeks flushed at Ketch’s words. “I just… Wish we coulda figured it out without a fight.”

Ketch shrugged. “Everything happens for a reason. Go ahead and get to your work, I’d hate to take you away from that.”

Sam hesitated – he was overcome with the incredible urge to hug Ketch, or more. Instead he just smiled and rose, taking a seat at his desk to start his work.

Dean came up behind him, setting a can of beer on the desk near him before leaning down to kiss his neck. Sam laughed a little, moving away from his brother’s lips. “Stop distracting me.”

“I finally get to – can’t judge me for taking advantage.”

“I’ll still be here in an hour when I finish, keep it in your pants,” Sam teased, not looking away from his laptop screen in front of him.

“Ah, but I don’t think we will be,” Ketch said.

“What do you mean?”

“Another name on your list, Novak. He should be alone tonight according to his schedule. I’d like to try to catch him.”

Sam glanced over and nodded. “Sounds fine to me. Try to hide the body better this time – too many being found so quick is gonna raise suspicion.”

Ketch nodded. “Further into the woods, perhaps. Off the beaten path.”

“Sounds perfect. Plus, the quicker the bodies get found, the more work for me, which means less time figuring out this new… Relationship with you two.”

“Well we wouldn’t want that,” Dean mumbled, nosing Sam’s neck again.

“Dean, he said to  _ stop _ teasing him,” Ketch scolded. Dean huffed but backed up, and Sam heard the couch groan as he sank down on it with Ketch. He could feel their presence in the room as he typed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, as it had been over dinner. Now it felt – dare he say – right. It felt nice. This could actually work out.

As Sam typed, he could hear Ketch and Dean talking quietly, occasionally arguing over something or the other. By the time he finished and turned around, Dean was tugging on his jacket.

“Heading out?”

“Yes, it’s just about that time,” Ketch said, pulling on his own leather jacket and zipping it.

“You know, Sammy… You could come along,” Dean began, glancing over at Ketch. He scowled for a moment then nodded.

“You could. It might be fun to have a third person on our hunts. Someone to help carry the body, surely.”

“I couldn’t. I’d just screw something up and that’s the one thing we don’t need.”

“Are you sure, Sam? You could even just sit in the car with us, if you’d like. I know I would enjoy your company.”

“Me too… Brother bonding.”

“Your dick in my ass wasn’t enough bonding for you?” Sam teased. He sighed softly then rose and grabbed his coat. “Fine. I’ll come. But I’m not having anything to do with the murder. You guys have that handled and I’m not even sure I could.”

“It does take a special breed to take another person’s life. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you couldn’t,” Ketch assured him.

Sam smiled a bit and nodded.

“Great. We’ll go to our place first, I’d like to drop off my bike. Take the Impala instead, it’s quieter and the trunk suits our needs.”

“You put them in the trunk?” Sam asked, stopping in front of the two. Dean laughed.

“Where’d you think we put them, Sam? The back seat? Carried ‘em on our backs? Where else? The trunk is the perfect size for a person.”

“Well, except the politician. We had to stuff him a bit,” Ketch said.

“That’s because his stomach was bigger than you and me put together. We coulda used your help for that one, Sammy.”

Sam laughed a little at the mental image of the two struggling with the man. They weren’t wrong, the man’s weight had been close to four hundred pounds, and not a bit of it was muscle.

“Alright. Let’s get going then before I come to my senses.” Sam followed the two out, locking up the apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

The drive to the apartment was mostly silent, but not uncomfortable. Along the way, Dean reached over, twining his fingers with Sam’s. “I’m glad you said yes, Sammy.”

“So am I. I’m still not sure about it all, but I—I don’t know—I feel happy. Calm, if that makes sense.”

“It does. So, do you think you and Ketch…”

“I don’t know,” Sam said, knowing instinctively what Dean was going to ask. “I didn’t think I liked him that way, but the more we’ve talked these past few days and seeing him with you… I can see  _ something _ happening.”

“You want my opinion?” Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Always.”

“I think you and him are a lot alike. I mean, obviously me and him have a lot in common in a ton of ways but… Sometimes he talks and it just reminds me of things you’d say. And he’s so damn smart. I know I’m smart, but it’s different with you two. You’re both so rational and calculating. If you want my advice, I think if you wanna try and make it work with him too – go for it. Ketch likes you.”

“As a friend.”

“As more than a friend, Sam. You think we haven’t talked about it? He thinks you’re gorgeous. And I know he loves talking to you. If you wanted to try to make it work with both of us, instead of just me, I think you should go for it.”

“And if he says no?” Sam asked. “Wouldn’t that screw things up? We just started this relationship – I don’t wanna mess it up in the first week.”

“If he says he’d rather not, then we stay the way are right now. You don’t give Ketch enough credit. He’s more understanding than you think.”

Sam stayed silent, watching the city pass in the windshield. Finally he nodded, squeezing Dean’s hand. “I’ll think about it a little more. I wanna figure out if I really like him that way or if it’s just a fascination because of the relationship we’re trying.”

“Just don’t be afraid to talk to us about it, okay?” Dean asked, pulling into his parking spot.

“Of course.” Sam leaned over, hesitating for just a moment before pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek. Dean grinned, looking at him for the first time since they got in the car.

“Now, I know you can do better than that, Sam.” He grabbed the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him into a deep kiss as Ketch slid into the backseat, making a noise of approval.

Sam blushed, pulling away and glancing back. “Sorry.”

“You needn’t apologize, Sam. I told you, I enjoy watching you two. But we should get to our target before we miss him.”

Dean grunted and pulled back out, heading toward the club Novak was supposed to be at.

“One thing we should warn you about, Sam – if you’re in the room with us when we actually slaughter the target,” Dean began, “Things tend to get a little… Heated.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dean gets hard as a rock watching me slit throats,” Ketch said bluntly and Dean snorted.

“Well when you put it that way I sound nuts.”

“We’re serial killers, Pet. We are a bit insane.”

Sam chuckled. “He’s not wrong. So what, are you saying you get off on murdering people?”

“I get off on murdering people with my partner. Now partners.”

“Most of the time we barely make it back to the apartment before Dean is pleading to have a certain something in his mouth,” Ketch said, his voice tinged with a teasing tone. Sam scowled, his eyes widening when he realized what Ketch was implying.

“That’s…”

“Weird?” Dean worried.

“Kinda sexy,” Sam admitted, his cheeks pinking at the admittance.

“Perfect. At least now he’ll have someone else to play with so I can focus on getting us home in one piece,” Ketch said.

“I have always wanted to take you apart in the backseat,” Dean said, smirking over at Sam.

“You’re sick minded.”

“You came on your brother’s cock last night,” Dean shot back.

Sam threw a bitchface but stayed silent – it wasn’t like Dean was wrong.

The club was almost silent when the three arrived, pulling into the alley. “Know the plan?” Dean asked.

“I came up with it,” Ketch replied, pulling on a pair of sleek leather gloves.

“What’s the plan?” Sam asked, feeling a bit out of the loop.

“I’m going to go in and find the target, convince him to step outside with me. Ketch and I will switch in the alley and Ketch will knock him out and we’ll put him into the trunk. Then onto the shop.”

“You guys do this a lot like this?”

“It’s easier if the target is confirmed gay, but yeah – it works out. And it keeps us from being seen together,” Dean explained. Sam nodded.

“I’ll just wait here.” Dean leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Sam’s mouth before looking back at Ketch.

“Ready?”

“Always.”

Dean rolled his eyes as they got out of the car together. Sam watched Dean slip into the club while Ketch walked behind the car, unlocking the trunk but leaving it mostly shut. He leaned against the wall, the shadows nearly hiding him in his all black outfit.

They didn’t have long to wait before Dean was walking back toward the car, his hood pulled over his head. He caught Ketch’s mouth in a quick kiss before ducking behind a dumpster, out of view of the alley’s entrance. Ketch turned his back to the entrance, waiting.

Sam ducked down so he wouldn’t be seen in the car, lifting his head just enough to see Novak round the corner, stopping for a second before he approached Ketch, tapping him on the shoulder.

Ketch turned around and Sam heard Novak ask if he’d seen Dean.

“I have. He went down that way,” Ketch said. He pointed Novak toward the other end of the alley. When the man turned to head that way, Ketch grabbed him, wrapping his right arm around Novak’s neck. He began to squeeze, shoving the man’s head down with his other hand.

Dean came around the side of the dumpster, lifting the trunk lid. He helped Ketch shove Novak into it when he went limp, slamming it shut and circling around the car as casual as ever.

Meanwhile, Sam was gaping at the two. Dean smiled when he slid behind the wheel.

“Problem?”

“You two are so… Good at that.”

Ketch chuckled. “Well, we have been doing it quite a while, Sam. I hope we’re good at it.”

“But you make it look so easy,” Sam argued, still shocked.

“It is,” Ketch said simply. He looked at Dean through the rearview. “We should head to the shop though, before he wakes.”

Dean nodded, pulling out of the alley and heading toward his butcher shop.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean pushed a pair of latex gloves into Sam’s hands when they reached the shop. As Sam tugged them on, Dean grabbed a rubber band from the glove compartment, carefully scooping back Sam’s shaggy hair.

“I know you shed,” Dean explained when Sam grunted.

“Short hair is easier for jobs like this,” Ketch agreed.

“You know, now that we have Sammy, we should try out that other technique we’d considered for disposing of the bodies.”

The three got out of the car, rounding it to the trunk.

“What technique?” Sam asked, helping to grab Novak around the middle. Dean caught his legs easily and Ketch grabbed his shoulders. Together they walked him to the back entrance of the butcher shop.

“Burning the body instead of simply decapitating and dumping it. Dean is always worried about leaving some evidence. Burning would dispose of that.”

“He’s got a point,” Sam agreed, helping push open the door. Dean led the way into the large freezer, the floor covered in a sheet of heavy plastic. Animal carcasses hung on hooks from the ceiling while other cut meats were stacked in white paper on shelves along the wall.

They walked to the back and dropped Novak to the floor without much care. Sam grimaced when his head cracked against the cold concrete under the plastic.

Dean circled around him, brushing a gloved hand over his own. “You still okay? You can take a step out, if you need to.”

Sam stared at the unconscious man, his jaw twitching as he considered. He looked over at Dean and shook his head.

“No. I want to watch this. I want to see what you guys do… Be a part of it, in some way.”

“You are, Sam. You give us these despicable creatures,” Ketch assured him. He was turned away from the two, opening a small black zippered bag he’d pulled from one of the shelves.

“I get it, but I want to be a  _ part _ of it.”

Dean grinned a little. “Sammy, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that was lust in your eyes.”

Ketch glanced back, smirking. “Bloodlust is important in this job, Sam. Embrace it.” He turned, holding a simple scalpel in his hand, now covered in a latex glove.

Sam’s cock gave a pleasant throb at the sight and he closed his eyes, wetting his lips. “So what do you do next?”

Novak groaned, making all three men look down at him.

“Do you let them wake up?” Sam asked.

“Well it’s no fun to kill them if they’re not awake,” Dean explained.

“Normally, here’s where Dean pins him down while I slit his throat.” Ketch wet his lips, looking from Novak up to Sam. “Why don’t you do it?”

“H—Hold him?”

“Mm. Just be sure to hold his head steady – I don’t like making incorrect cuts.”

“Wh—“ Novak mumbled, reaching back to rub where his head had hit the concrete. “Where am I? What is this?” He asked, looking up at the three men.

“This? Oh, this is Hell,” Dean said, a deadly smirk slithering onto his face. “Welcome.”

“What? Is this some kind of game? Let me go?” Novak began to back up, the plastic crinkling under his body as he moved.

“Now, Sammy,” Dean whispered.

Sam didn’t hesitate, surprising even himself. He leapt forward, dropping to the ground when he circled behind Novak. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his head back, pressing a hand on his chest to still him.

“It’s only going to be worse if you try to run,” He whispered.

“Who—I know you. You’re that cop that tried to take me in. What is this! Why are you with these psychos?” Novak cried, struggling against Sam.

The smile that spread across Sam’s face made Novak freeze in place, his eyes widening.

“It doesn’t matter who you think I am. Or what you think of these two, Mr. Novak. What matters is that you’re going to pay for the crimes you’ve gotten away with for  _ so long. _ And I’m going enjoy watching.”

Dean gave an involuntary groan, making Sam glance up at him. His cock was hard in his jeans and he was reaching out, gripping Ketch’s forearm. Ketch was smiling down at Sam, a proud smirk on his face.

He crouched down, sitting on Novak’s chest and pinning his arms with his knees. “Now, hold tight, Sam. Make sure his throat is tilted up so I can get a nice view. It will get bloody.”

“Should we cover his mouth?” Sam asked as Novak began to whimper.

“Nah. See, the nice thing about the concrete in this room? It’s completely sound proof. He can scream all he wants, and no one will hear him,” Dean explained, sitting on Novak’s legs to still him.

Sam wet his lips, meeting Ketch’s gaze.

“Would you like Dean to help you?”

“No. I’ve got it.” Sam yanked Novak’s head back as far as it would go, exposing his neck to Ketch’s scalpel. He placed his other hand under Novak’s chin, using his bodyweight to force his jaw closed so it wouldn’t get in the way of his neck. He could hear Novak screaming through closed teeth, but it sounded far away, muffled by the blood thrumming in his ears. His cock was aching in his jeans, stiff as he’d ever felt it. He couldn’t take his eyes off the scalpel in Ketch’s hand, the silver glinting dangerously off the artificial lights as he brought it closer and closer to their victim’s throat.

“Are you ready, Sam?” Ketch asked once more, waiting until Sam looked at him.

Sam nodded quickly, wetting his lips. He looked down again. Time seemed to slow down. Ketch ran his gloved fingers over Novak’s quivering throat, pressing down every few moments. He held a moment longer on the side of the throat and nodded, bringing the scalpel over to where his fingers were.

Novak’s muffled screams increased as he struggled to knock the three men off him, but to no avail.

The first slice with the scalpel was deep, a spurt of bright blood spraying out and splashing wetly onto the plastic.

Sam gave a quiet moan. He glanced up, his eyes locking with Dean’s over Ketch’s shoulder. Dean’s gaze was nearly black, his lips parted as he sucked in breath; Sam knew that expression. He’d seen it just the night before while Dean was fucking him.

A deep gurgle drew Sam’s attention back to Ketch’s work. He was halfway across the throat now, moving slow and steady to cut deep. Sam could see the skin and muscle pulling back as blood poured out, spreading in a lazy puddle across the plastic under the body.

Sam could hear a steady thumping – Novak’s feet as he kicked under Dean, close to death. His eyes had rolled back in his head, exposing bloodshot whites. He was still screaming, a wet bubbling noise that reminded Sam a bit of a pot of coffee being made. Blood streamed from between his teeth and out the corners of his mouth as he choked.

Ketch allowed the scalpel to slip from his fingers and fall into the spreading puddle of blood when he’d reached the other side of Novak’s neck. He smirked a little. “Let him go now, it’s alright.”

Sam did as he was told, moving back and standing. The other two rose, staring down at the body of the man between them. He was still kicking and jerking, a soft wheezing rumble filling the room.

“How long does this last?” Sam asked, resisting the urge to palm himself through his jeans.

“Usually about five minutes. Dean sets up his own work area while the death throes taper off.”

“How can I help, Dean?” Sam asked, looking over at his brother.

“You’ll help hold the limbs if you’re okay with that.”

“I am.”

Dean nodded, walking over to the back of the room and opening a cabinet. It was filled with various butcher knifes and blades. Ketch nudged Sam with his elbow.

“While he does that, let’s strip down the body. It’s easier to make clean cuts if he doesn’t have to go through fabric as well.”

Sam nodded and they crouched, pulling the suit off the still twitching man. Sam could smell a wet, dead odor beginning to rise already; the man had lost control of his bodily functions as he was dying.

Ketch chuckled a little when they tugged Novak’s pants down. He looked at Sam. “Not making you ill?”

“I’m a crime scene detective, Ketch. I’ve seen worse,” Sam said simply, adding the pants and boxers to the growing pile of clothes.

“You are an amazing specimen, Sam. I knew you were brave – I had no idea you possessed this side.”

“What side is that?” Sam asked as he tugged off Novak’s watch.

“This darkness.”

Sam stilled for a moment and looked up at Ketch. He wet his lips, dropping his gaze back to the body of the man he’d just helped murder.

“I didn’t either, honestly. But I’m glad I found it.” He looked back up, his expression stoic. “I needed to find it.”

Dean crouched next to Ketch, a shining, sharp bone saw gripped in his hand. “Come over here, Sam, and grab his wrist. I need you to hold his arm straight out for me and keep it tense don’t let me have any give with it, alright?”

Sam nodded, crawling over and grabbing Novak’s wrist. It was cold, the skin keeping its shape even in his tight grip. Ketch moved over the body and grabbed Novak’s shoulder and side, pulling the opposite way that Sam was to give Dean a nice clean view of what to cut.

Dean began to saw steadily, the sharp blade going through the muscle and bone without too much effort.

They worked in a steady, comfortable silence. The air was electric, heated glances between the three as Dean removed each limb from the body between them.

Even in the weak light of the freezer, Sam could see the outline of Ketch’s cock through his dark pants. His own was aching, pressing uncomfortably tight against the zipper of his jeans. A glance at Dean proved he had to be in a similar situation, though his tightly drawn expression gave nothing away.

Watching him work was beautiful. Each cut was made with purpose. His hands were steady, gripping the knife and body without hesitation. His lips were squeezed into a tight line, brows knitted together as he separated the muscle and bone, ignoring the sluggish ooze of thick blood that followed each incision.

When all four limbs were removed, Dean stood, cleaning the blade at a large sink. He shoved it into a sterilizing machine, leaning against the sink and watching the two. “So, pack up and drop, or burn?”

“I say burn,” Ketch said, looking over at Sam.

“Alright, I’ll grab the lighter fluid.” Dean put away his tools and walked around the body. He stepped up to Sam, looking him up and down.

Sam swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. Dean had the expression of a wild animal at that moment and it was as arousing as it was terrifying. He didn’t back down though – instead he lifted his chin a bit and smirked at his brother.

Dean’s chest rumbled a little, a low, almost animalistic growl slipping from between his teeth.

Sam leaned forward, tilting his head just enough to brush a kiss over Dean’s lips. He hissed when Dean reached up and fisted the ponytail, snapping his head back. Dean’s teeth were against the juncture of his neck and shoulder in an instant, a chunk of skin and muscle caught between them as Dean bit down, sucking and lapping at the pinched flesh.

Sam gave a weak moan, his hips jerking toward Dean.

“Told you he gets worked up,” Ketch’s voice was right next to Sam’s ear and he jumped; he hadn’t heard the other approach.

“Fuck—” He gasped out.

“Dean. Enough – We have to finish this. And then you can take apart your sweet little brother.” Ketch’s voice held an air of authority and Dean responded immediately, backing up and licking his lips. Ketch shifted behind Sam, grunting quietly.

Dean nodded as if he’d been given a command and rushed out to get the things they needed.

Ketch slid off one of the gloves and turned Sam around. He placed his fingers gently on the underside of Sam’s jaw, tilting his head. He chuckled a little.

“That’s going to leave a nasty bruise.”

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut. “He’s so—“

“Brutish?”

Sam laughed a bit, still coming down from the floaty feeling he’d acquired during Dean’s bite.

“It’s how he copes,” Ketch further explained.

“Copes with what?” Sam asked, meeting Ketch’s dark gaze.

“The darkness inside him. He doesn’t want to be a bad person. But he needs this. And he needs someone that can rein him in and calm him down.”

Sam nodded slowly, understanding.

Ketch offered a gentle smile. “If you have questions, Sam… Please don’t be afraid to ask. Dean and I aren’t a traditional couple, and you are entering our world quite quickly. I don’t want you to be afraid of us.”

“I couldn’t be afraid of you two,” Sam whispered.

“Oh? Not even after what you just saw? How Dean reacted?”

“I didn’t push Dean away just then because I wanted it too, Ketch. I might not be a murderer or a butcher or whatever – But I’m Dean’s brother. Whatever darkness is in him – it’s in me too. Maybe it’s time to let it out.”

Ketch pursed his lips in thought before nodding. “Then we will. You’ll light the match tonight. If you want to.”

Sam’s cock gave a little throb at Ketch’s decisive tone, trying to come back to full attention.

Ketch ignored his expression in favor of turning and grabbing a large, thick plastic bag. “Hold this open, we need to get the carcass in here.”

Ketch was tying the end of the bag, now filled with the body and any remaining plastic and evidence, when Dean walked back in with a can of lighter fluid. “Are we ready?”

“Mhm. What took so long?”

“One of the front-end workers left the cooler unlocked and I had to dig around to figure out who it could have been so I can chew them out tomorrow.”

Ketch chuckled. “Mid-murder and you have time to get angry at your workers.”

“Hey, murder doesn’t get me paid, man. I gotta keep a clean shop.”

Ketch conceded, hefting the bag with Sam’s help. “Unlock the door for us, would you? Then we can lay down a clean sheet of plastic and move on.”

Dean pushed past them and opened the door, allowing them to pass through it before he turned and began to straighten up the freezer again. Sam glanced back, smiling a little – it was like they were never there. These two really  _ were _ good at their job.


	7. Chapter 7

The night was cool when Sam stepped out of the Impala. Dean had parked a ways into the woods, where no one would see the smoke from the fire. They worked together to pull the bag out of the trunk and carry it to an open area. Dean and Ketch began digging while Sam pushed brush out of the way so they wouldn’t accidentally start a forest fire.

When the hole was large enough, they pushed the body, bag and all, into it and Dean poured lighter fluid over it. Ketch passed Sam the matches. “Are you ready?”

Sam stared at the box in his gloved hand for a moment, the smell of lighter fluid and evergreen tangling in his nose.

“Yes.”

“Light ‘er up,” Dean said, taking a step back. Sam drew in a shaky breath before pulling out one of the matches and lighting it. He watched it burn between his fingers for a moment before dropping it into the hole.

The rush of heat made all three step back and shield their faces. They tugged off their gloves, tossing them into the fire and lining up, shoulder to shoulder, to watch it burn.

Sam was intensely aware of Dean on one side of him and Ketch on the other, their bodies feeling warmer than the flames in front of them. His cock ached once again in his jeans, a sick need swirling in the pit of his stomach. He actually  _ enjoyed _ this. How twisted was he? Were all of them.

Dean’s mouth on Sam’s neck made him jump a little – he’d been so focused on his own feelings that he hadn’t heard his brother step behind him. Teeth grazed his earlobe, hot breath dampening his already flushed skin.

“Dean—”

“What?” Dean grumbled against his ear.

“Is this really the time?”

“It’s the  _ perfect _ time, Sammy.” Dean reached around and grabbed his crotch, giving it a squeeze that had Sam whimpering.

“Dean—” Ketch warned but Sam shook his head.

“He—He’s okay. I’m okay with this.”

“Are you sure?”

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut when Dean found the spot he’d bitten earlier, clamping his teeth down again and giving a painful suck to the flesh that had Sam weak in the knees.

“Yes!” Sam cried, reaching back and fisting Dean’s short hair.

Ketch licked his lips, leaning on a nearby tree and crossing his arms to watch the brothers as they ground their hips together. Dean’s hands were all over Sam’s chest and crotch, and Sam was gripping anywhere he could to stay upright.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open, landing on Ketch. He wet his lips, opening his mouth like he was going to speak. Ketch shook his head, putting his finger to his lips. Sam whimpered, letting his head fall back on Dean’s shoulder when Dean forced his hand down the front of his jeans.

“We should put out that fire,” Ketch said softly. Dean growled against Sam’s neck.

“Dean.”

Sam took a shaky breath and stepped away from Dean, pushing his hand away.

“Back home. We’ll finish this,” He promised as he stepped closer to Ketch and grabbed the shovel.

They worked to fill in the hole they’d made with the burnt body and cover it with brush, stepping back when it looked as natural as they could make it.

When they finished, Ketch shoved the shovels in the trunk and slipped his hand into Dean’s pocket, pressing a kiss to his mouth before withdrawing the keys and getting in the driver’s side. Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. Dean almost never let  _ him _ drive the Impala – and they’d grown up together. He didn’t have long to think about it, however, because Dean pulled open the passenger side back seat and shoved Sam in.

He grimaced when his head bounced off the arm rest on the closed door, but Dean was already on top of him, kissing and biting over the curve of his neck. Ketch chuckled from the driver’s seat.

“Dean, shut the door.”

“Is this okay?” Sam worried.

“Oh yes, normally he’s nearly in my lap by this point – I rather enjoy this view,” Ketch said. Dean snorted, pushing Sam’s legs into the car before shutting the door and settling back onto him.

“I’m not  _ that _ bad.”

“The last time we worked together you gave me oral while I was driving.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he looked over at Dean. “Really? In this car? Your precious Baby?”

“Hey – I cleaned up the mess,” Dean defended.

Sam laughed a little and rolled his eyes. He wiggled into a more comfortable position stretched across the seat.

“God, I haven’t been crammed back here since we were kids.”

“Cram something else,” Dean mumbled, leaning forward to kiss Sam. He stopped when Sam began to laugh.

“Dude that makes  _ no _ sense.”

“Yes it does.”

“No,” Sam argued. Dean scowled at him.

“He is right, Dean. It really doesn’t make any sense,” Ketch said, beginning to drive. Dean rolled his eyes deeply.

Sam’s smile went a little distant as he looked from Ketch and back to Dean.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“I just… Everything that happened tonight. I—We’re all joking and laughing in the car like we didn’t just—”

“Murder someone that deserved it?”

“Yeah,” Sam whispered. Dean smiled a little and shifted, wiggling closer to Sam and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Are you okay with it?” Ketch asked. Dean leaned back, searching over Sam’s face while he thought about his answer.

“I shouldn’t be. I’m a damn cop. I—I solve crimes like this one, and I—” He shook his head, his face crunching up.

“Hey. Sam, talk to us,” Dean said softly. He sat back a little, allowing Sam to sit upright in the backseat. Sam leaned forward, putting his face in his hands and rubbing them vigorously over his cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say, Dean. I mean knowing you guys did this, even kinda with my help, it was one thing. But the way I acted tonight—”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s the problem. When I replay it in my head I should be disgusted. I can still hear the guy’s bones while you were cutting into him and smell him while we burned him. I should be sick to my stomach about what we did but I  _ liked _ it. I want more… I’m all fucked up,” Sam whispered.

“No more than Dean and I. We’re here for you, Sam,” Ketch said softly. Sam looked up, meeting Ketch’s gaze in the rearview.

“I know that, and thank you. I mean – I’m not gonna crack up or anything. I just don’t really know what to do with my emotions.”

“Well what are you feeling? Perhaps we can talk you through it, and settle your concerns,” Ketch offered.

“Well first, I loved the power. It was so,” Sam drew in a shaky breath, looking at his hands, “nice. Just—It felt right.”

“It was right, Sam,” Dean said softly. “The guy was a bad man. What we did – we helped the world.”

“I know. And I think that makes this easier to take but—God, I got so hard while we were doing it. I know you guys said it was a sexual thing but I didn’t expect it to affect me like that.”

“I didn’t at first either,” Dean said. “It was a rush and it was scary. But Ketch – he – he’s amazing at helping me work through feelings like this. He can help you too, if you want.”

Sam nodded, his jaw twitching a little.

“I just—I know I should feel dirty or wrong for all of this. Wanting  _ you _ and enjoying murdering someone and everything else, but I can’t.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad for it, Sam,” Ketch said. “It is taboo and it is wrong to many people. But you are Dean’s brother. The darkness within him sits within you as well. It’s high time you embraced it.”

“I need your help. Both of you,” Sam admitted.

Dean leaned over, pulling Sam to him and kissing him with a surprising gentleness. “You’ve got it. Both of us. No matter what.”

Sam smiled a little, gazing at his brother’s face. He nodded. “Thank you.” 


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the ride was quiet. Dean held Sam’s hand, stroking his thumb over Sam’s knuckles and letting him process what had happened.

When they reached the apartment building they climbed the stairs together and stepped into Sam’s place. Dean immediately disappeared into the kitchen, and Sam could hear the clinking of glasses.

Ketch circled in front of him and reached out, brushing his hair back from his face. “You needn’t do any more tonight if you’re still overwhelmed. Dean and I can go back to our place.”

“No. I—I want you two to stay.”

“We can. Though Dean’s tension—“

“I know. And we’ll get to that, I’m sure, I—I have this ball of energy inside me that just wants to break out and I need an outlet, so…”

“We can help you with that as well.”

Sam wet his lips, his gaze dropping from Ketch’s eyes to his mouth. “Are you interested in me? As more than your boyfriend’s brother boyfriend—Whatever we are now?”

“Yes, Sam. Quite. But I am a grown man, perfectly capable of keeping my feelings in check. It’s your comfort I’m concerned with.”

Sam smiled a little. “Well, I think I’d be more comfortable if there wasn’t a divide here. We’re both dating Dean so—“

“It makes sense that we date as well, if we have feelings for one another,” Ketch finished.

“Yeah. I mean if I didn’t like you like that I’d be fine with it, but—“

“We can explore that option if you’d like, Sam.”

Dean entered, holding three glasses of whiskey. He smiled a little at the two. “Drinks before bed?” He suggested, raising the glasses.

Sam stepped away from Ketch and took one, taking a sip. “Thanks, Dean.”

“My pleasure. So… How are you feeling now, Sammy?”

Ketch took the other glass and settled into the recliner, allowing the brothers to take the couch.

“A lot better. More stable, if that’s anything.”

“It’s good news. I don’t want this to be something that screws this all up. Not when it’s so new.”

Sam shook his head. “No, I don’t think it could. I needed this. It’s confusing and scary and—I don’t know… But it feels right somehow.”

“We’re not normal, Sam,” Dean said simply, tossing back the whiskey in his glass. “But it works. What we do, what we need to do to survive, we can.”

“Provided you’ll be able to return to work with a clear conscience,” Ketch said softly.

Sam looked over at him and nodded. “I can. I don’t think that’ll be a problem. I lie every day about you guys, so—“

“And when they find the body?”

Sam shrugged. “Then I keep lying. Chances are they’ll either think it’s unrelated to you guys or get scared that it’s another MO change. Either way works to our benefit.”

Ketch nodded.

Dean set his glass on the table and scooted a little closer to Sam. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Sammy—Do you want anything tonight?”

Sam looked at Dean’s full, pink mouth. “Only what you wanna give me.”

Dean smirked. “How about everything?” He grabbed Sam’s glass and set it on the coffee table before fisting his shirt, dragging him into a kiss that deepened quickly.

Sam gasped a little, his arms flying out for a second before he settled his hands on Dean’s shoulders, letting his eyes slip shut. Dean’s tongue demanded entrance that Sam gladly gave, letting Dean push him back onto the couch, smiling into the kiss when Dean settled between his thighs. He pulled back after a moment, craning his head up to look at Ketch.

Ketch was smirking a little as he watched the two, his glass set aside and fingers steepled against his mouth.

“Don’t let me stop you,” He said when Sam’s gaze caught his attention.

Sam bit his lip, looking up at Dean for a second. He pushed him back and stood up, fixing his shirt. Without a word, he went to the door and locked it, then over to Ketch. Sam sank to his knees, between Ketch’s legs. He leaned forward, mouthing over his cock through his pants. Ketch gasped audibly, dropping his hand and stroking through Sam’s hair.

“Well, that’s a nicer sight than I expected,” Dean teased. Sam looked back and smirked at his brother.

“Why don’t we move to the bedroom?” Ketch suggested. “The bed will probably be more comfortable for all of us.”

Sam allowed Ketch to pull him into a standing position. Dean followed them into the bedroom, shutting the door after them and leaning on it. He began to strip out of his clothes.

Sam laughed. “Eager?”

“Dude, normally by now I’ve come at least twice.”

Sam frowned a bit. “I’m sorry – I know adding me is probably throwing you both of your patterns.”

“It’s a welcomed distraction, Sam. Trust me. We needed something to spice up our lives, I believe,” Ketch assured Sam. He stood in front of him and undid the buttons of his shirt easily as he spoke. Sam looked back, smiling when Dean nodded in agreement.

He stepped up behind Ketch, now clad in only his boxers and set his hands on his shoulders. He began to press kisses along the curve of his neck, eyes still on Sam.

Inch by inch, more skin belonging to each man was exposed. Sam and Dean worked together to strip Ketch, peppering him with kisses between their own shared ones. Ketch stripped Sam down, steady and firm hands running over his tense muscles and relaxing him more than he thought was possible.

Sam found himself on his back, Ketch and Dean over him on either side, pressing gentle kisses and bites down his chest. Dean reached his cock first, running his tongue over it. Ketch leaned back, fisting Dean’s hair and jerking his head up.

“Don’t tease him.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, his mouth dropping open a little. He whimpered when Ketch pulled again, nodding as well as he could. When Ketch released him, he dropped down, lifting Sam’s cock from his stomach and taking as much as he could. Sam gasped, his hips jerking in surprise.

He reached out for Ketch, beckoning him to move up. When he did, Sam took his cock in hand, leaning over and wrapping his lips around the tip. Ketch sighed softly, his hand resting heavy on Sam’s head, stroking through his shaggy hair. Sam worked his mouth down the shaft of Ketch’s cock, coming back up in sync with Dean’s motions on his own.

Sam couldn’t decide which feeling he liked better. Dean’s mouth was warm and wet and perfect, but the weight of Ketch’s cock on his tongue, the feeling his fingers stroking through his hair and guiding him forward – that was amazing as well. He pulled back when he worried he’d lose it before they even got to the main event, tugging on Dean’s hair.

“Stop—“

Dean pulled back, licking his lips. He looked up at Ketch, as if awaiting instruction.

Ketch nodded, stretching out on the side of Sam’s body. Dean smirked. “Hand me the lube, Sammy.”

Sam tossed it to him, nuzzling a little closer to Ketch and kissing over his shoulder. He skimmed his fingers down his chest until he reached his cock, teasing it with the barest graze of his short nails. He smirked at the hiss it earned him, moaning softly when Ketch fisted his hair and jerked his head back.

“Do you like to tease, Sam?”

Sam nodded slowly, biting his lip to hold back the moan when two of Dean’s fingers slipped into his hole.

“Perhaps you should be taught how that feels.”

Sam’s stomach knotted, meeting Ketch’s gaze. “Yeah, maybe  _ you _ should teach me.”

Ketch smirked. “Perhaps. Another time. Tonight, I admit I’m more interested in watching your brother take you apart bit by bit.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “How’s that sound to you, Sam?” He angled his fingers deeper, brushing against Sam’s prostate.

Sam’s back arched high, a gasp catching in his throat. “Perfect.”

Ketch shifted up, leaning over Sam and kissing him hard, distracting from Dean’s fingers working him open. Their tongues met in a gentle dance, sharing breaths. Ketch’s fingers skimmed over his shoulder and down to his chest, pinching his nipple. Sam moaned into his mouth. He felt Dean’s fingers leave his ass and pulled away, looking down. Dean smirked and winked before pushing in slowly. Sam’s moan was long and drawn out, his head digging back into the pillow as Dean filled him in the best of ways.

Ketch sat up, setting a hand on Dean’s ass as he watched him sink into Sam’s lube slick hole, eyes flitting up to watch the tension leave Sam’s shoulders the further Dean pushed in.

Their eyes met and Ketch smiled, pressing a kiss to Dean’s shoulder. He nodded to Sam and Sam grinned a lazy, open mouthed smile, letting his eyes slip shut as Dean began to thrust into him.

At some point, Sam felt Ketch’s fingers on his chin, pulling his jaw down gently. He opened his mouth without a fight, sighing contentedly when Ketch’s cock slipped in, hot and heavy on his tongue. He sucked eagerly, gripping Dean’s forearms as he fucked into him hard and fast.

It was Sam that came first, Ketch working him through his orgasm as he screamed their names, clenching around Dean.

Dean fell over the edge soon after, grunting softly. He slumped over Sam, fisting the sheets on either side of his hips.

Ketch moved up, nudging Dean’s shoulder. Dean grumbled something under his breath before rolling off Sam, earning a whimper out of Sam.

“Relax,” Ketch whispered, taking Dean’s place. Sam gasped, biting his lip.

“Do you want this?” Ketch asked, running the tips of his fingers over Sam’s swollen hole. Sam nodded, shutting his eyes. He let his hand drop, grabbing Dean’s and twining their fingers. Dean smiled tiredly, forcing his eyes to stay open as Ketch pushed into Sam’s used ass.

Sam groaned. Ketch was a little thicker than Dean, filling and stretching him even in his relaxed state. He began to thrust in slowly at first, until Sam’s twisted features relaxed, then picked up his pace.

Sam gasped, arching his back a little. His spent cock gave a little twitch, trying to harden again when Ketch nudged his prostate. Dean rolled on his side, mouthing over Sam’s neck.

“How’s it feel, Sammy?” He whispered.

“Good—Fuck—“

Dean reached down, stroking his cock gently. Sam grimaced, clenching around Ketch. “I can’t--“

“Yeah you can, Sam. Come on. Get it up for us again,” Dean coaxed.

Sam gave a sobbing moan, arching his back as Ketch sped up. Dean’s come was dribbling down his ass, sticky and hot every thrust. Despite his previous assumptions, Dean’s ministrations and the constant pressure against his prostate had Sam hard again, aching already. 

Dean continued to stroke him, twirling his wrist at the tip each time before sliding back down. Sam still gripped his left hand, nails biting in every time Ketch hit his prostate. Dean was murmuring in his ear, urging him to another orgasm, promising he’d love it, it’d feel amazing.

"Dean, I--" Sam's cock throbbed, balls drawing tight. "It hurts--"

"You're still hard, you're just not used to this. Relax, Sammy. He'll get you there."

Sam drew in a ragged breath, trying to force his body to relax. Within minutes his cock began to jerk, weak ropes of come dribbling out. His body went stiff as his orgasm hit, pain and pleasure mixing together in a sensation Sam had never had. He could hear himself screaming, and Dean laughing, telling him what a good boy he was. 

As he began to come down, Ketch hit his own orgasm. He drove deep into Sam, grunting quietly as he added to Dean's already present mess. 

Sam winced, biting his lip as Ketch pulled out, flopping onto the bed next to Sam. 

“Holy shit,” Sam panted when he was sure he could form words again. Dean chuckled a little, his eyes shut lightly.

“Good, I assume?”

Sam huffed a laugh. “Amazing.” He looked over, forcing his eyes to focus as Ketch rose from the bed and padded out of the room.

“Are you still okay with this, Sammy?” Dean whispered against Sam’s shoulder.

Sam nodded, turning just enough to plant a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “It’s perfect – I’m more than okay with it. All of it.”

Dean nodded, smiling a little. “I think it’ll work out.”

“I know it will.”

Ketch returned, a washcloth in his hand. He crawled onto the bed and cleaned Sam first, then Dean. “Either of you lads thirsty?”

They shook their heads. “I just wanna sleep,” Dean admitted.

Sam laughed a little and nodded in agreement.

“Very well,” Ketch disappeared again and Sam scowled. “He doesn’t seem too tired—Were we good enough for him?” He worried.

“Yeah, we were fine. He gets like this sometimes. Nothing you did wrong, or me.”

Sam nodded, still watching the door. Soon he felt Dean’s breath, hot on his shoulder, even out. A glance over showed he was fast asleep.

Ketch returned a few minutes later, offering Sam a smile. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Was waiting for you.”

Ketch crawled into bed next to him, pulling the blanket up over all three. “I’m here now, get some rest. We wouldn’t want you to be late for work tomorrow.”

Sam snorted. “I’m already gonna be limping.”

“We weren’t too rough, were we?”

“No, no- You were perfect,” Sam assured him, covering a yawn. Ketch pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Go to sleep, Sam.” Sam nodded, nuzzling a little deeper under the sheet between the other two, allowing himself to fall into a restful sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

“Looks like you had a pleasant night,” Bobby teased when Sam arrived at the station the next day. He scowled a little until Bobby pointed to his own neck. The memories of Dean’s rough bite flooded back and he blushed.

“Sorry, meant to cover that better,” Sam mumbled, tugging up the collar of his shirt a little more.

“I’m glad you found someone, even for the night. You’re too uptight sometimes.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“So? Is he a one time thing? Or boyfriend material?”

Sam laughed a little, setting his briefcase on his desk and taking a seat. He logged into the computer before responding.

“Definitely boyfriend. Been a long time coming.”

“Well, I’ll need to meet him some day,” Bobby said.

Sam chuckled, nodding. “Maybe someday,” he said as noncommittally as he could.

“Dean okay with you having someone?”

“What?” Sam looked up. “Why would he be? He’s got Ketch.”

“Mm. But you two are… Well you’re special boys.”

 

It felt like Bobby had always been like a father to Sam, and to Dean by extension. When he was a rookie fresh on the force, all the way up to now where they sat side by side as equals, Bobby was the closest person to Sam in the department. More than once they’d gone out for drinks or had dinner at each other’s homes.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. Bobby shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. Just if you need to talk to me, I’m here.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed a little. He glanced at the photo on his own desk from a barbecue last year – Bobby with his arms wrapped around Sam and Dean as they stood almost cheek to cheek in front of him. Could he—know?

“Bobby—Do you… Think something’s going on with Dean and me?”

Bobby leaned close so no one else would overhear them. “I’ve long thought you two were a little too close to be brothers. When he found Ketch, I figured it was just me being paranoid. But I’m a detective, son. I’m trained to spot things. I know a lot more about you and Dean than you think.”

Sam’s stomach did a nervous little flip, tossing acid into his throat and inducing a wave of nausea.

“Bobby—“

“Not here. I been meaning to talk to you about this for a while, s’pose today is as good as any. I’ll come to your place after work.”

“You can’t—Dean and Ketch are coming by for dinner.”

“Good. I think they need to know as well.”

“Know what?”

Bobby shook his head, sitting back in his chair. “We’ll talk this evening, son.”

He said no more on the subject, leaving Sam with a sick feeling in his stomach through the rest of the day.

***

“Sam, you’ve been quiet since you came back. What’s up?” Dean asked, sipping a beer at the kitchen table.

“Bobby’s coming by for dinner.”

“Cool, I miss that old coot… Why do you look like someone just killed your puppy?”

Sam cleared his throat, closing the files. He looked up at Dean across the table. “He knows something’s going on between us. And I think he knows you and Ketch are behind the murders.”

Dean sat up a little straighter, his bottle clunking on the wood.

“Why do you say that, Sam? We got a serious problem if he knows.”

“I know we do. But the way he was talking today… I think he figured it out and I don’t know what to do if he confronts us.”

Dean shrugged. “We lie. It’s all we can do.”

“To Bobby? He’s one of the best detectives on the force, Dean. We lie and he’ll catch us.”

“He hasn’t so far. And if he’s so sure, why aren’t the cops banging down my door, or yours?”

“Maybe he wants to catch us in a lie. Get us to say something incriminating.”

“Then we don’t.” Dean picked up the beer again, taking a drink before continuing. “We make it sound like we just chilled out last night.”

“He knows I got laid,” Sam mumbled, pulling his shirt aside to show Dean the bruise he’d left.

“Then tell him you and Ketch got it on. Not too far of a stretch if he already thinks you and me have something going on. And it’ll distract him from, you know. Murder.”

Sam chuckled a little at the flippant way Dean talked about a felony.

“We can try but—“

“We’ll figure it out, Sammy.”

***

Sam thought the dinner with Dean and Ketch just a few nights prior was the most awkward in his life. He was so very wrong. From the moment they got past the uncomfortable, tense hellos, barely five words had been spoken from any of the four men at the dinner table. Sam wanted to say something,  _ anything _ to break the tension that seemed to have formed, but he was scared of opening his mouth for more than food. What if he said something wrong? Something incriminating? What if speaking opened the door for Bobby to interrogate them?

It was Ketch that tired of the silence first. He wiped his mouth and cleared his throat, placing his fingers together over his plate. “So, Bobby – Sam mentioned that you had something to discuss with us.”

Bobby coughed a little and nodded. “I do. And I think Sam already has a pretty good idea about what it is.”

Sam hung his head a little, glaring at the stir fry on his plate like it had wronged him in some dire manner.

“Perhaps you would like to enlighten us, then, as to what Sam knows. Because we are quite in the dark here,” Ketch pressed.

Bobby took a long drink of beer and leaned back, lacing his fingers on his stomach.

“That was a delicious meal, boys. That beef from your shop, Dean?”

Dean nodded. “Mhm – Just carved it up today.”

“You’re real good with a knife, son. Always have been. Sharpest cuts I’ve seen in a lotta years.”

Dean swallowed a little harder than necessary, grabbing his own bottle and chugging down half of it.

“It didn’t take me long to put it together, boys. I’m old but I ain’t stupid. And neither are you. You had to know someone would pick up the trail.”

“Bobby—” Sam tried, but Bobby held up his hand.

“I’m not finished. I had it figured out by the fourth victim.”

All three turned to stare at Bobby, who remained still, his expression calm.

“You—Why haven’t you said anything?”

Bobby cleared his throat, sitting forward a little. “You boys haven’t hurt anyone. Not really. Think about all the lives you’ve saved by doing the world small favors that the police department couldn’t. Call me naïve – But I’ve always believed in superheroes.”

“We’re not superheroes, Bobby. We’re just… Sick,” Dean whispered.

“Sick people wouldn’t be reasonable. They wouldn’t choose the worst of the worst to get their fix. They wouldn’t leave reasons why. I’ve been in the game a long time, boys. I know sick.”

“So why now? Why tell us now?” Sam asked, staring hard at Bobby.

“Because you boys need to know you’re not alone. You can only run so much interference before it looks suspicious. So I’m helping.”

“Thank you, but—“

“Despite the mysterious serial killer in our midst – do you know crime has dropped six percent since you boys started working? Sam knows. That’s a ton for us. You’re  _ helping _ . Any one of the men in uniform will admit it. We don’t really wanna catch this mystery guy – guys – as I know. We just have to keep up a good front.”

Sam glanced over at Dean, trying to gauge his reaction to the news. He was staring at his beer bottle, sucking and biting on his own lower lip in thought.

Ketch cleared his throat. “Then we owe you our thanks, Bobby.”

“No. You owe me your intelligence. Don’t get sloppy. Don’t get caught.”

Ketch nodded once in agreement.

Sam looked up. “You mentioned—Me and Dean.”

“I did,” Bobby agreed, rising to rinse his plate off.

“What did you mean?”

“I meant what I said in the office, Sam. I ain’t blind, I’ve seen what’s gone on between you two for years. Honestly I’ve been waiting for one of you to give in to it but—Well.”

“We did,” Dean said softly. Bobby turned around, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“I won’t go into the gory details but I won’t lie to you. I was drunk and stupid.”

“And Ketch—“

“I’m more than fine with it,” Ketch assured him, rising as well. He offered a smile before beginning to put away some of the food. “I rather enjoy the new dynamic.”

“So this is a new thing,” Bobby clarified, looking over at the still guilty looking Sam.

“I know you probably think it’s freaky.”

“Well, it sure isn’t normal. But you boys have always been anything but normal. And you’re, you know. Serial killers. A little brotherly love in an unbrotherly way really doesn’t shock me.”

Sam and Dean both chuckled a little.

“So are the three of you—“

“Together? Yeah,” Dean said. Bobby nodded.

“Well, guess I don’t have to meet your new boyfriend after all, Sam. I already know ‘em both. And I approve of them.”

Sam grinned at Bobby, nodding. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Want another beer?”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, sure.”

Bobby headed to the fridge, pulling out fresh bottles for them. As he passed them out, he cleared his throat.

“Now, I do have one favor to ask you boys. There’s this pimp that has been slipping through our fingers for two months now. Think you could make sure—“

“He takes a long sabbatical?” Dean asked.

“Well that’s one way to put it.”

“Get us the info and we can put him down in a few days,” Dean said, cracking open his beer.

“Give it a week,” Sam warned. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Sam’s right,” Bobby agreed. “Keep it steady and not too fast. I’ll slip the file onto Sam’s desk tomorrow at work.”

Sam and Dean gathered the rest of the dishes, working together to clean them. Sam could feel Dean’s eyes on him the entire time, his cheeks heating up under the scrutiny.

“Something wrong?” He finally asked.

“Nah, I’m just… Kinda waiting to wake up, you know?”

“You’re turning into a romantic, Dean,” Sam teased. Dean splashed him with water.

“I mean it, Sam. I never figured you and me—“

“Well we are. Are you happy about it?”

“Course I am.”

“And with Ketch.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s better than I ever figured I’d have it, honestly. I’m shocked but—I’ll take it.”

Sam leaned over, pulling Dean into a soft kiss. “I’m still your brother, Dean.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean murmured, his lips grazing Sam’s as he spoke.

“Means I’ll still call you a giant baby if you turn into a sap over this.”

Dean huffed a laugh and shoved away from Sam, punching him in the shoulder. “You damn bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam shot back. He turned his attention back to the dishes, hearing Ketch suggest a round of poker at the table.

It wasn’t a normal relationship by any means – Sam couldn’t even pretend it was. But that was okay. The Winchesters had always had bad luck; it felt like it was time for that to finally change.


End file.
